


Kingdom Come

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Legends of Destiny [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Cabal, Gen, Orbital Bombarment, Published Elsewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Rasputin takes issue with the Cabal.





	Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's been a while since an upload... yeah... sorry about that. Here's some mutilated Cabal by way of apology I guess?

Cabal follow orders. He’Stan knows this, it’s in his bones, ingrained deep into the fundamental psyche of his race. Cabal know not just war, they know victory. They have no word for defeat, only for shame. This is why he’s on this dusty red ball, hanging away from the glory to be won on the other worlds of this system. The Cabal know war, and victory. They will not be shamed by robots. It’s this thought that re-affirms his resolve, straightens his spine intangibly. Makes him proud.

It’s this thought that will get him killed.

They’re marching, slowly. The Cabal word would be “Val’shakah”, “Glacial march, inexorable”. They may crawl, but they crush anything they find. They cannot, and will not stop.

Cabal wait for no-one, no thing.

They’re passing time, someone brings up the tale they all know, Acrius, the legend the Dominus seeks to emulate, he who climbed to the heavens to possess the sun and became the first Emperor of the Cabal. Then the Psions start to scream.

They lash out, wild arcs of unconstrained psychic energy spiral away, carving smoking furrows into the sand as the heavy click of Cabal weapons being brought to ready fills the thin, dead air. Sensors are dialed in, clicking and whirring quietly as they scan everything for nothing, something, anything out of the ordinary.

A stray bolt of psionic energy catches He'Stan in the chest as his eyes slide over a strange symbol made of an arrangement of parallel lines on the wall of an old human building. Briefly, he gets the sense of an angry god, rising from his twisted throne of bloodied metal and shadow with a crown fashioned from black iron and nightmares seated upon his brow, seething in uncontrolled rage as he pulls a bolt of lightning from a forge made of dead stars and aims at those who dare to trespass upon the grave of his brother.

As one, sensors throughout the column scream from radiation overload, suit computers white-out, and He'Stan’s eardrums are shattered as the sky splits open with the grandiose snarl of a war god to reveal the cavernous maw of the deep black, populated with a thousand tiny pinpricks of silver light.

His suit computer stutters out completely before it reboots, displaying foreign characters in a dull orange lettering flickering against his optical implants.

//WEAPONS SYSTEM ACTIVE - “KINGDOM COME/DIAMOND GATES” - STAND BY...//  
//ACTIVATE INITIATIVE - “ICARUS FEATHERS” - CONFIRM?//  
//AUTH. CODE “PIOUS” ACCEPTED - APPROVAL OF SITUATION RECOGNISED, FIREPOWER RESTRICTIONS LIFTED FOR LIMITED USE, AWAITING GUIDANCE SYSTEM ACKNOWLEDGEMENT...//  
//”ICARUS FEATHERS” CONFIRMED//  
//GUIDANCE OVERRIDE “CZERNOBOG ETHICALITY” ACCEPTED - RECALIBRATING...//  
//USER “RSPN” ACKNOWLEDGED… PROCEED...//  
//SYSTEMS SLAVING COMPLETE - GSYS. ID.V99CM7878L55478 “TYRANT’S FURY” - STAND BY...//  
//AWAITING SECONDARY AUTH. CODE//  
//CODE - “AACHEN” ACCEPTED - STAND BY...//  
//TARGETING SLAVING… COMPLETE - “ICARUS FEATHERS”, “ODIN FALL”, “CALIBURN”, “EXCALIBUR”, SLAVED, AWAITING TERTIARY AUTH. CODE//  
//CODE “MORDRED” ACCEPTED, “CARNWENNEN” INITIATIVE ACTIVE...//  
//вторгающимся тут не рады/

Radiation shrouds the slaughter from prying eyes; and the Tyrant goes to work.

The world turns to thunder and fire, the psions scream and weep as the psychic backlash fries their brains to slurry and fall instantly, corpses not even cold before the butchery starts.

A shimmering hail of molecular edged razor blades is the first to reach them, riding the coattails of the thunder. The mono-molecular rain of metal slides through Cabal armour like a hot knife through butter, running flesh to ruin in an instant, Cabal scramble to cover, and pin-point accurate lances of golden fire scour them from the surface of the world with anger, burning them to ash for their crime. The tanks disappear in droves as thirty-three ton slugs of tungsten carbide drop from orbit whistling bloody murder like the hammer blows of an angry god. Sending the air ringing with the deep-seated rending scream of metal being unceremoniously torn apart. Finally, their land-tank, the massive, five-mile mobile fortress Fortuna Invicta is all that remains.

The sky splits further, the air warps and shimmers, and reality breaks a little bit; before a glimmering column made of nightmares and dead starlight swallows the tank’s footprint whole and the vehicle simply ceases to be.

With a final snarl, the sky heals over with it’s vengeance dispensed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, doubtless if any of you are fans of MyNameIsByf you may have noticed this uploaded in audio format here - https://youtu.be/XlVFlfJIkS4
> 
> I'm going to start posting the best of the series, along with any that maybe don't quite make the cut, are changed in some way in the process, or don't fit the art style. So stay tuned.


End file.
